Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Action & Adventure,
Family,
Juvenile Fiction,
Magic,
Fantasy & Magic,
Brothers and sisters,
Twins,
Animals,
Siblings,
Dogs,
racing,
Basset Hound,
Transportation,
boats,
Ships & Underwater Craft,
Motorboats
themselves. "All ready to start her up and head after those kids," said the Beard.
"Forget those brats." The Boss snorted. "They must be across the bay by now and calling the cops."
Wrinkle Face asked, "Are we heading out to sea and down to Mexico?"
The Boss shook his head. "A change of plans. The cops will have every Coast Guard boat and helicopter searching the coast for us. Instead, we're going to join the powerboat race tomorrow."
The Beard and Wrinkle Face stared at each other, confused. "Won't that be like putting up a flag and saying come get us?" muttered the Beard.
The Boss grinned wickedly. "Not if we go up the Sacramento River tonight and hide out in the trees along the bank. Then, after the boats refuel at the city docks and continue on the return run down the river, we join the boats as they race past. Our boat is as fast as any of them, so we'll have little trouble catching the brats and smashing them, that dumb dog and their boat into teeny-tiny pieces."
"But they won't be in the race with their old wooden boat," said Wrinkle Face. "The officials will never let them enter."
"I know those brats," said the Boss. "They never do what they're told. Those twins and their stupid dog will be in the running, just you wait and see."
"Gee, the Boss is one smart boss," said Wrinkle Face.
"Good thinking, Boss," came back the Beard.
The Boss threw the suitcase with the stolen money into the cockpit. "Start the engine. I want to find a good place to hide along the river before the sun comes up."
After they docked, the twins told their story to the security guards, and the police were called to take them to the nearest station to fill out a report on their scrape with the Boss. Casey and Lacey were thrilled to ride through the city streets in a patrol car, its siren shrieking.
The chief detective, whose name was Mulroony, reminded Lacey of the giant who lived on the beanstalk. He was a tough-looking man, but a kindly one. He smiled and offered the twins candy as he read their report. Finally, he glanced up with a solemn look on his face.
"We sent a squad over to Alcatraz, but there was no sign of the Boss or his henchmen. They and their boat were gone. They're probably in the ocean, speeding toward Mexico."
"Did they really rob a bank?" asked Casey.
Mulroony nodded. "They got five hundred thousand dollars from the Nob Hill Bank."
"I'm sorry I couldn't have caused more damage to their boat," Casey said sadly.
"Don't feel bad," Mulroony said slowly. "You did your best." He stood up, leaned over and petted Floopy. "Now you kids run along and get some sleep. If we need any more information, we can call on you in Castroville."
The patrol car took the twins back to the dock. They went aboard Hotsy Totsy and were soon fast asleep.
9 Thunder Across the Bay
They had slept only a few hours when they were awoken by the loudspeaker announcement instructing the drivers to start their engines. Casey yawned and lifted Floopy out of the coil of rope that had become his bed and handed him down to Lacey. Then he got busy untying the lines to the dock. Once behind the wheel, he started the engine and moved toward the Golden Gate Bridge and the sea.
Hotsy Totsy moved through the water slowly toward the sea as if they were leaving San Francisco. A fancy yacht with the officials passed them and took up station at the starting line. Lacey counted forty-two boats that moved around in circles as they lined up for the start of the race. At a signal from the officials on the yacht, the pilots would launch a vast free-for-all across the bay toward the entrance of the Sacramento River.
A sea of pleasure boats had already lined up along both sides of the course, which was marked by yellow buoys. A thousand spectators were in a festive mood, many dining on goodies from picnic baskets as they waited for the flare to shoot into the sky from the official yacht that would signal the start of the Gold Cup Grand National Race.
The brilliant
Learning to Kill: Stories